


Rome

by DynamicDuo (XylB)



Category: Grayson (Comics)
Genre: M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:14:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27829537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XylB/pseuds/DynamicDuo
Summary: It had started simply, really. Dick had caught up with Tiger.Climbed through the window of his hotel room.A brief standoff with sticks and guns and then Dick had started fuckingtalking, hadn't he?Which had boiled over into an argument, hurled accusations and frustrated denial and neither of them know what's going on but Tiger insists that Dick fuckingframedhim and Dick spits it right back with Matron's suggestion ofcompromisein Agent 1.Anyway.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Tiger
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	Rome

**Author's Note:**

> Okay I lied this one isn't titled after a Bond song. 
> 
> Set in between Nemesis Part 2 + Part 3 but where I insert a bubble of new PWP canon.
> 
> As always, do not interact if you ship incest!

Rome is probably beautiful at night. It's probably glittering and dramatic and tranquil, probably with a gentle hubbub of tourism and local nightlife carried on the warm breeze. 

But Dick's not exactly here for those sights. 

It's messier than usual - grittier, harder, _fiercer_. Dick doesn't even have time to take off the holsters before he's panting and kissing and dragging nails down Tiger's side, cutting in close to his hip just to make him hiss and buck up, swallow a quiet sound that Dick doesn't miss and thrust forward for the same treatment all over again. If Tiger grips his shirt any closer he thinks it might just rip under the force, at the seams, impatient hands and worse mouths, hint of teeth and a suggestion of tongue that leads to all the right marks in all the right places. 

It had started simply, really. Dick had caught up with Tiger. Climbed through the window of his hotel room. A brief standoff with sticks and guns and then Dick had started fucking _talking_ , hadn't he? Which had boiled over into an argument, hurled accusations and frustrated denial and neither of them know what's going on but Tiger insists that Dick fucking _framed_ him and Dick spits it right back with Matron's suggestion of _compromise_ in Agent 1. 

Anyway. It was heated and messy but weapons got discarded and the threat of a fight turned into a near shouting match because Tiger's fucking _pissed_ and wow Dick would be too, probably, if he woke up in a crime scene, but hey, it's not totally fucking beyond a spy to, _oh I don't know, Tiger, fucking lie?_ All Spyral _is_ is lies. 

And at some point they got too close and at some point Dick's eyes started roaming to the flex of Tiger's arms in his shirt and at some point Tiger had fisted a hand in his shirt and tugged him into a rough kiss against the wall, Dick's hands landing either side of his head and Tiger's already slipping around Dick's sides and up his back and urging him in. 

And then they didn't really talk much after that. Still haven't, really, and it's with that same silent synchronisation that Dick tugs Tiger away from the wall by his elbows and Tiger easily sidesteps them to let Dick back him to the bed, kissing a fervent line down Tiger's neck until Tiger's knees hit the mattress and he falls back on it. 

Dick crawls on split-seconds later, gets his legs between Tiger's, drops his hips and _rolls_ and it's all over from there. Tiger bites vicious into his collarbone, digs his fingers into the small of Dick's back, rocks him down and sucks up a dark, deepening mark that just makes Dick shiver all over, pant incoherently into the pillow and use his fingers to shove up Tiger's shirt, run the rough palm of his gloved hand down his front. Messy. Tiger pushes a hand through his hair and growls against his pulse-point. 

Still no words, not when it's this _heated_ , not when there's still bad blood and misunderstanding threaded between them even though both of them know they're being played like chess pawns, so Dick telegraphs his moves, big, wide, obvious, _unmissable_. Runs his hand down Tiger's thigh and curls fingers above his knee, tugs his leg up and over his hip, grinds forward _filthy_ , reminiscent of so many other positions they've done, and Tiger _groans_. Presses his booted heel to Dick's ass and rocks right back up, knocks all the air out of him in a fevered moan, buried against cloth over Tiger's neck. _Fuck_. 

Tiger also telegraphs his move, but Dick doesn't even _care_ at this point, knows Tiger wouldn't hurt him, _trusts_ him, with this, even with Helena's doubt, so he doesn't react when Tiger presses fingers to his lips except to shudder and open his mouth around them. He doesn't know when Tiger removed his glove. Usually this would be prelude, would be _slicking up_ , fingertips pressing down on his tongue and hooking behind his teeth while Dick sucks sloppily on them, but they're pressed together too tight at the hips now for either of them to reach, which means Tiger's doing this as the same echo of a suggestion that Dick started with lifting his leg. 

Tiger pulls away too soon, but Dick's sense memory of spit-slick fingers on his cock is still strong, and he jerks forward with a panted curse, plants his elbow beside Tiger's head and dips down to kiss him, messy, while he rolls his hips just like how he'd fuck him. Tiger digs his wet fingers into Dick's shoulder and pants against his mouth, rocks his hips up as best he can just to spur him on and Dick's _definitely_ gonna come in his underwear from this. It's been too long, at the plainest, basest level of it; and it's been too _one-handed_ , if he spins it playful. Too much of his right hand and not enough of Tiger's left. 

Dick coughs out a rough, ragged noise into Tiger's jaw, gives up the pointed grinding for a much filthier, much more frantic rhythm, trying to get them both off now, deliberate, his arms already trembling trying to hold himself up. Tiger's leg tightens around him. Solid weight around his waist and hip, hard pressure on his ass, flexing with each thrust and pressing Tiger up _hot_ against him, really, a full-cock sensation with that, friction from his underwear worsened by Tiger's thrusting, worsened by Tiger's lips on his, worsened by _Tiger_. 

Tiger digs his fingers into the small of his back again and pulls him down, insistent, to fuck up against him in shorter, sharper thrusts, just like he does when he's about to come - 

Dick comes with a ragged gasp, slams his hand against the sheets and fists them, white-knuckle, shudders above Tiger and can barely _think_ past the white-hot wave of _ohgodyes_ that floods through him with all the force of an SUV. His teeth knock Tiger's when he next tries to kiss him. Each press of hips sends another powerful tremble through him, presses the wet mess of his underwear back up in a dirty reminder, tips the pleasurable sharpness into oversensitive sharpness but Dick just grits his teeth and grinds down again. His white noise fades out to let Tiger trickle back in, from his punchy movements to his stuttery panting to the hand trying to dislocate Dick's shoulder, by the feel of it. 

Dick wants to babble, wants to murmur a string of _c'mon, c'mon, fuck, yeah, c'mon_ , but doesn't this time. He shoves his other hand down to curl around Tiger's hip, dig into the back of it and lift him _up_ into the next thrust - 

Tiger's hand slips off his shoulder into a fist when he comes, startlingly sudden, tips his head back and closes his eyes and groans with the next messy circle of Dick's hips. Dick drops kisses up the tense line of his throat, stubble scratching his lips and chin but god he doesn't _care_ , not when Tiger looks like _that_ underneath him, panting for air while his hips jerk and stumble. Slow, a few seconds later. 

Dick lets go of Tiger's hip when Tiger stops rocking up. Grinds against him a couple more slow, lazy times before stopping. Tiger's leg falls back to the bed with a dull thump. Dick settles on his elbows above him, kisses at his throat until Tiger raises his head again to kiss him instead, markedly slower now. Dick indulges him for a few moments. Gives a parting kiss before resting his forehead to Tiger's just to try and catch his breath. 

Moments pass like molasses. Rome is probably alight with music outside. Dick can't hear it over the blood pounding in his ears. 

"I didn't fucking frame you," he sighs. 

"I know," Tiger admits. Stubborn bastard. "It's not your style." 

"Yeah, and the murders weren't yours," Dick replies. He grins, eyes still closed. "You're nowhere near that handy with a stick." 

"I think I've proved otherwise," Tiger says, and rolls his hips up. Presses them together again for a short, blissful, staticky moment. Dick's laugh morphs into a faint, pleased noise. 

"Careful, I'm starting to rub off on you," Dick jokes, both about the phrasing and the, well, _rubbing_. 

"Now why would I be careful about _that_?" Tiger asks, grins against Dick's lips. Rocks up again. "That would be incredibly _responsible_ of me." 

"Ah, yes, and you're practically _notorious_ for your loose-cannon methods. Sure. _You're_ the irresponsible one." 

"Around you, yes." It almost sounds like an _I love you_ , the way Tiger breathes it into his mouth. 

"Then I'll make sure to stick around." Almost a response. A reciprocation. 

Rome is probably beautiful at night. But it doesn't really compare to the half-lidded, glass-green gaze below him, crinkled in the corners with a smile fonder than a sunset. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm over at [halifax-jordan](https://halifax-jordan.tumblr.com) on Tumblr!


End file.
